


Bait and Switch

by EaglePursuit



Series: Another Summer's Sunny Days [15]
Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Dipcifica, F/M, Gradual Dipcifica, Matchmaker Mabel Pines, Post-Gravity Falls, Returning to Gravity Falls, Short, Teenage Dipper Pines, Teenage Dipper Pines and Mabel Pines, Teenage Mabel Pines, Teenage Pacifica Northwest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-16
Updated: 2020-07-16
Packaged: 2021-03-05 00:14:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,121
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25315147
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EaglePursuit/pseuds/EaglePursuit
Summary: Part 15 of Another Summer's Sunny Days. Pacifica invites Dipper to her home to examine priceless artifacts, but does she have an ulterior motive?
Relationships: Pacifica Northwest/Dipper Pines
Series: Another Summer's Sunny Days [15]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1792519
Comments: 4
Kudos: 27





	Bait and Switch

**Author's Note:**

> Based on: Disney’s Gravity Falls  
> Created by: Alex Hirsch
> 
> Beta readers: my wife & PK2317  
> Art by: KID | @KIDWMA

Bait And Switch 

The _Stan o’ War II_ sat on its trailer in the Mystery Shack’s gravel lot next to the totem pole in the late morning sun. Ford and McGucket were laying on their backs underneath it with tools, finishing up the installation of sensor upgrades. More accurately, Ford was finishing up the installation. McGucket was alternating between stealing his tools and blathering gibberish in his ear. 

Stan was asleep on a chair on the deck with an increasingly warm beverage in his hand, slowly acquiring the complexion of crispy bacon in the summer sun. 

Mabel, who had borrowed the Mr. Mystery eye patch and eight-ball cane from Soos, was bounding up and down the length of the deck like a pirate, pretending to fend off a boarding party from the Royal Navy. “Cabin boy,” Mabel addressed Dipper in her best buccaneer impression. “T’is no time to write in the captain’s log. Join the fray, me hearty!”

“Aye aye, Captain Mabel. I just need to finish up a few thoughts.” Dipper was sitting on the boat’s transom, writing a new entry in Journal 3 for witches. He had left a space for a drawing of Hecate once Dana revealed her new and improved costume.

Dipper’s phone chimed in his pocket, and he silently thanked Melody for finally getting a new dish to restore the Shack’s internet connection. He suspected it was a text from his friend Ryan, back in Piedmont. Ryan had recently started designing his own smartphone application to create Dungeons, Dungeons, And More Dungeons characters, and was keeping Dipper up to date on his progress. Dipper was inclined to ignore the text until he finished writing, but Mabel ran up to him and slapped the 8-ball cane down in the middle of his page.

“Who was that!?” she asked excitedly.

“I didn’t look.” Dipper rolled his eyes. “It’s probably Ryan. He’s working on a thing for our D.D.&M.D. campaign.”

“Look at it, Dipstick!” Mabel jumped on him and tried to reach into his vest pocket for his phone.

“I had no idea you were so interested in Ryan,” Dipper said facetiously, pushing her away. He grabbed his phone before she could leap back on him and pulled it out.

“I’m not interested in any of your Dungeon Dorks!” she protested loudly. “Especially not Ryan!”

Dipper smirked at her, then looked at the notification on his lockscreen. It was a tiny thumbnail image of an attractive blonde in a Summerween cat costume. The smirk faded from his face to be replaced by surprise. “It’s Pacifica.”

Pacifica: 

I have something to show you. Guess what?

Dipper: 

Is it 1000 year old artifacts that your family stole?

Pacifica: 

What? Yes. How did you guess that?

Anyway, Father is in DC and Mother is eating 

brunch with her Momosas parents group 

so come to my house

Dipper: 

Ha! I knew it

There’s a reference to them in my journal

I was going to ask you about them some time

Can Grunkle Ford come too?

Pacifica: 

No! 

Just you

Dipper: 

OK, C U soon

“Wow, Pacifica invited me to come over and examine some ancient artifacts.” Dipper raised his eyebrows in surprise. “She said just me, but I’m sure she’d be cool if you came too.”

“No thank you, Dip-dip!” Mabel shook her head. “You can fill me in on what happened when you get back. Here, take a breath mint.” She pulled one out of a pocket in her skirt and shoved it in his mouth before he could say ‘no’.

He gave her a confused look. “I’m going to have a talk with Grunkle Stan about limiting your sugar intake when I get back. You’re acting strangely,” he joked. He placed the journal back in his pocket and climbed down from the Stan o’ War.

He peeked under the hull. “Hey, Grunkle Ford. Can you give me a ride? I’m going to go check out those Native American artifacts that the Northwests are hoarding.”

* * *

Ford pulled Stan’s red sedan up to the curb in front of the Northwest’s perfectly manicured lawn. “Now remember.” —He turned around in his seat and looked at Dipper— “Document everything. Take pictures of the artifacts from multiple angles alongside the journal. We can use it as a reference for scale later. If possible, chip off pieces so we can analyze them in the lab.”

McGucket, who was riding in the front passenger seat unhelpfully added, “Crazzle pins moodery plip studle mleep.”

Dipper glanced questioningly at Ford.

“I’m still working on fixing his speech.” Ford sighed. “Call one of us for a ride when you’re done.”

“Sure thing, Grunkle Ford.” Dipper climbed out of the back seat and closed the door behind him. He walked to the large house’s front door. Outwardly, no one appeared to be home. The curtains and garage doors were closed and no cars were parked outside.

Dipper rang the doorbell and noticed the curtain in a bay window to his left shift a little. He stood uncomfortably for a few more seconds, aware that Ford wasn’t going to drive away until he went inside.

Finally, the door opened. Pacifica peeked around from behind it as she greeted him, “Hi, Dipper.”

“Hi, Pacifica. How are you?” Dipper asked politely. He noticed a lilac-purple sweatshirt laying in a heap on the stairs going up to the second story. It struck him as odd. He had assumed the Northwests would be fastidious about picking up dirty laundry.

“Get inside, now. I don’t want the nosy neighbors to rat us out to my parents!” Pacifica ordered him sternly.

Dipper stepped through the doorway. He heard the noisy engine of Stan’s old car fade away as he looked the foyer up and down. She quickly closed the door behind him and he turned to face her.

Dipper felt his face grow warm when he saw her dressed in a blue paisley halter top and white short shorts. The top wrapped around her waist and clasped behind her neck, leaving her shoulders and arms bare. He fought through a few ragged breaths before he could speak properly. “Uh…Wow, you look nice. Are you...going to a party?”

Pacifica smiled and shrugged coyly. “Nah. I’ve got everything set up on the dining room table. Right this way.” She turned and walked out of the foyer.

Dipper followed behind her and tried to calm the swimming sensation he was feeling in his head. The sight of her platinum blonde hair swishing side-to-side across her smooth shoulders as she walked wasn’t helping matters.

She led him through a parlor and into the dining room where a large clamshell case was set on one end of a long table. A familiar pattern graced the floor.

“I see your parents were able to find more of their favorite carpet,” Dipper observed out loud.

Pacifica smirked. “I manage to ‘accidentally’ spill something on it about once a week.”

He laughed in approval and sat down at the end of the table in front of the case.

Pacifica moved to stand at the side of the table to his immediate right. She leaned her forearms on the tabletop and watched as he flipped the latches on the case. He lifted the lid with great care and slowly revealed the items within.

There were a dozen expertly crafted spear points and arrowheads made of obsidian, each item set in its own niche in the cushioned interior of the case. Dipper had seen obsidian in the vicinity of Crash Site Omega and supposed that’s where the Native Americans had sourced the material for these weapons. There were also bone needles, various tools made from antlers, and garment ornaments made of porcupine quills, but the highlight of the collection was the trio of painted clay pots nestled in the center. The contents of this one case absolutely put the museum’s meager collection of artifacts to shame.

“One of my ancestors acquired these through some dubious deal over one hundred years ago. My grandfather had them assessed by a professional for insurance purposes and that’s how we found out how old they are,” Pacifica told him.

“These must be priceless.” He looked at her in awe.

“Pretty much.” Pacifica held his gaze with hers and began leaning towards him across the corner of the table.

Dipper broke eye contact and reverently picked up the largest pot.

She sighed and settled back. “Father used to have them on display in his study in the mansion, but then we moved here and he didn’t have a place for them. He gave some other old things to the museum, as you probably noticed.” She smirked. “But he didn’t want them to have any of the good stuff like this.”

“Look at these details,” Dipper whispered. “They painted the zodiac around the rim. Did they understand what these symbols meant? How did they get them?” He turned the pot and looked at an image of Bill Cipher interacting with a man wearing a wolf pelt. “This must have occurred in the Dreamscape. I wonder what Bill was trying to accomplish. They could never have built a portal back then. Was he hoping to fast-track their technology? Did he just torment them?”

Dipper carefully put it back and picked up a smaller one, barely larger than the palm of his hand. “This one has some kind of frilly-looking lizard and some constellations. Look, here’s the Big Dipper.” He pointed to it and looked at Pacifica to see if she could see the constellation, but she was looking at him.

She leaned towards him again, and he furrowed his brow as she drew closer, not comprehending her intent. She quickly leaned in more and kissed him on the mouth.

The effect of the kiss was like a D.D.O.S. attack on his brain. He was overwhelmed with sensory inputs. The tiny flecks of green in her blue eyes as she leaned towards him. The softness of her lips on his. Her unique perfume, the combination of champagne and orange blossoms. Her bangs tickling his forehead. The vague awareness that she had placed one of her hands on his shoulder. A tingling sensation in his scalp as her other hand searched up the back of his neck and entwined with his curly hair, fingertips pushing under the edge of his cap.

Instinct kicked in first as his brain churned through this influx of data, and he kissed her back impulsively. Then rationality returned and he remembered he was holding a fragile, ancient clay pot in his trembling hands and pulled away from her.

They regarded each other for a moment, both breathing heavily. Dipper’s countenance was one of pure shock, while Pacifica’s was that of smug satisfaction.

The silence was broken by a mechanical whir from somewhere in the house.

Pacifica sprang into action, closing the lid on the clamshell case and pressing home the latches. “That’s the garage door. Mother’s home early. You’ve got to get out of here!”

Dipper panicked and scrambled for an exit. Under the best of circumstances, Preston and Priscilla wouldn’t hesitate to throw him out. But if they found out what he was doing with their priceless artifacts and their daughter; there would be heck to pay. He discovered a glass double door at the back of the house and slipped out as he heard Priscilla’s voice calling for Pacifica.

The backyard was large and enclosed with a privacy fence. Dipper was unsurprised to find an in-ground swimming pool there. The back of the house had many large windows overlooking the pool, so he crouched low and scuttled underneath them, against the back wall of the house.

Once he rounded the corner and found himself along the side of the house, he looked around and found an access gate used by the Northwest’s landscaping and pool services. He burst through it and emerged onto the sidewalk of a cross street. At that point, Dipper looked down and realized with dismay he was still clutching the small pot painted with the picture of the lizard. 

He pulled out his phone and sent Pacifica a text to let her know he still had the artifact, but there was no response.

“She’s probably dealing with her mom or freaking out,” Dipper mumbled to no one in particular. He was doing quite a bit of the latter himself. He paced the sidewalk along the fence and developed a hasty plan B: text Mabel for help.

Dipper: 

Tell someone to come pick me up

Mabel: 

That was faster than I expected

Did you get everything you wanted? ;-D

Dipper: 

I don’t know how to respond to that.

Just pick me up. Her mom came home and I

ran out the back door. I need to get out of here

Mabel: 

Mabel and a giant tomato are on the way. :-P

Fifteen minutes later, the Stanleymobile pulled up to the curb with a grumpy, sunburned Stan behind the wheel. Mabel grinned broadly at him from the front seat next to Stan as he ran up to the car and quickly climbed in through the back door.

Mabel turned around to look over the back of her seat at him, still sporting an effusive smile. “So, how’d it go?”

His face was ashen with guilt. “I stole her artifact.” He held it up carefully for her to see.

Mabel’s grin was replaced with confusion and surprise.

Stan glanced at the pot in the rearview mirror. “I’m impressed, kid. I did some shoplifting when I was your age, but never took anything like that. I know a guy, Rico. He can help us fence that thing.”

“I’m going to give it back, Grunkle Stan!” Dipper scowled irritably. Then he had a thought, “I haven’t heard back from Pacifica yet, though. I suppose there’s no harm in having Ford analyze it in the lab before I return it.”

“Did anything else happen while you were there?” Mabel pried, cheerful once more.

Dipper didn’t respond, instead he sighed and stared broodily out the window, a hint of a blush in his cheeks.

Mabel turned to face forward again and Dipper could hear her thumbnails clicking on the touchscreen of her phone as they rode in tense silence.

* * *

Dipper rested his chin on his crossed arms and stared at the small clay pot as green laser lines criss-crossed its surface in a transparent plastic box on a workbench in Ford’s lab. He was still trying to make sense of what had happened at Pacifica’s house.

A strong hand fell on his shoulder. “You have amazing fortune,” Ford congratulated him. “We’re able to get much better data on this artifact here than you could have back at the Northwest’s.” He set a stack of photographs next to the transparent box. Each one showed the pot from a slightly different angle with a proper scale bar next to it for comparison.

Dipper pointed to the design. “What is this thing? Some kind of lizard?”

“It’s actually an aquatic salamander of some kind. I’ll need to do some research to identify its species,” Ford replied warmly.

“And what’s with the constellations?” the younger Pines asked.

“I’m open to suggestions in that regard.”

“Grunkle Ford, I’m going to give it back to Pacifica,” Dipper blurted out guiltily.

“Of course you are. I found a cardboard box just the right size in the gift shop upstairs and we can pack it with an aerosol suspension gel that I invented for just this sort of thing based on the mucus of a hawktopus.” Ford proudly pulled a canister from his pocket and gave it a few shakes for emphasis.

Dipper’s phone chimed and this time he looked at it immediately.

Pacifica: 

Sorry, I had to deal with Mother and hide the case

Let’s meet up and continue our conversation ;-)

Dipper: 

Sure OK

Pacifica: 

Meet me at the mall food court at 7pm

Dipper: 

CU there

“It looks like we’re meeting at the mall,” Dipper told Ford.

He nodded. “Ah, excellent. I’ll give you a ride. You can meet with Ms. Northwest, and I’ll take a look around the mall. I haven’t been there in decades.” 

* * *

Dipper stood on the liminal boundary of the food court with the box in his hand. It was not yet seven, but the dinner crowd was starting to thin out. He decided to take a walk around the perimeter to ease the knots in his stomach. He strolled past a pizzeria, a Chinese place, a barbecue stand staffed by high schoolers in cowboy hats, and several other restaurants.

He glanced at his phone; just past seven. He was contemplating chickening out and finding Ford when he heard her call his name. 

He looked around and saw her next to the Meat Cute kiosk where Melody used to work. She was wearing the lilac-purple hoodie he had noticed on the stairs at her house when she answered the door, however, the strap of her blue halter top was visible above the collar.

“Sorry about Mother,” Pacifica apologized, rolling her eyes. “She usually stays out with her Momosas friends well past noon.”

“No big deal,” Dipper managed to sound calm. “What would my life be like if I weren’t running into or away from trouble at least twice per week?”

“Boring, I guess? Have you eaten?” she asked him.

“Not since breakfast, actually.”

“Do you want anything? Father’s buying.” Pacifica smiled mischievously and held up a black credit card with the name Preston Northwest embossed on it.

“You know, they’ve got some nachos here I’ve been meaning to try since last summer,” he replied conspiratorially. Somehow he was starting to feel like himself again.

They went to the Mexican food stall, named Poco Pablo De Loco’s, and got a deluxe nachos basket for two, a can of Pitt Cola for him, and an expensive bottle of spring water for her.

They found a small table and sat down opposite each other. Pacifica looked apprehensively at the basket of chips slathered with cheese sauce and toppings in the middle of the table.

Dipper guessed her parents never let her eat nachos before. “Oh, like this.” He carefully picked up a chip with cheese and ground beef on it and took a bite.

Pacifica followed suit and took a bite from her own chip. A little cheese spilled on her chin. Dipper laughed and handed her a napkin. “Thanks.” She dabbed her chin.

Dipper slid the box across the table to her. “Don’t worry. I didn’t break your artifact, and I didn’t mean to take it.”

“I wasn’t worried,” she replied, putting her hand on top of his on the box. “I’m just sorry Mother came home early and ruined everything.”

“Ah! It wasn’t completely ruined.” He pulled the photographs out of his vest pocket with his other hand and arrayed them on the table for her to see. “Ford and I managed to perform a comprehensive analysis on the small pot I took.” He showed her the constellations again. “I was thinking these might represent some kind of—”

“Dip,” Pacifica interrupted him. “I don’t care about the artifacts. It was just an excuse to get you to come over and…well, you know.” She smiled suggestively.

“I don’t understand. Then you…” —He couldn’t find the words— “... _intended_ for that to happen?” He was incredulous. He’d sometimes felt there might be some kind of vibe between them, but he’d thought it was his imagination. The idea that she might have felt it too was beyond his comprehension.

Pacifica faltered. “I…Well, Mabel thought—”

“Wait,” Dipper interjected. “Mabel’s involved in this? What’s going on?”

Pacifica took a deep breath. “I…I like you, Dipper.” She sniffed. “I have for a long time. I just...didn’t realize it until I found out about Crystal. And Mabel; she thought you liked me too. So...when you and Crystal broke up, Mabel wanted to help us get together.” She cringed. “We thought I should act soon so we would have a lot of time together...before the summer ends…but now I see...I’ve made...a huge mistake.” Her voice quavered with raw emotion.

Dipper didn’t know how to respond. He could only gawp at her helplessly as he attempted to process it all.

Pacifica stood up, took the box, and left with tears welling in her eyes.

Dipper stared unseeing at the basket of nachos as he gathered the photographs from the table like an automaton and held them in his hands. He didn’t know how long he sat like that before Ford plopped down in the seat opposite him and grabbed a cheese and beef-laden chip from the basket. 

“Dipper! Why are you eating cold food? I’ve been looking all over for you,” Ford said cheerfully. “This place has everything! I just got a great deal on a new trench coat at that ‘Edgy On Purpose’ store.”

* * *

Dipper mounted the stairs to the attic bedroom he shared with his sister two at a time and found the door open. He slammed it shut behind him as he walked in with a scowl on his face.

Mabel was laying on her bed with Waddles, texting. If she was surprised by him or his mood, she didn’t show it. She set her phone down and stood to face him.

“Were you trying to do your ‘Expert Matchmaker’ junk on Pacifica and me?” he asked angrily.

“Yes!” She pointed her index finger at him. “I owed her a favor. But I only did it because I know you like her too! She needed help getting your attention because you had your head up your butt about Crystal!”

“A favor?” Dipper eyes opened wide in realization. “Wait, _that_ favor!? This started when we were snooping around the mansion, didn’t it?” His eyes grew narrow and the tone of his voice darkened. “Did you sabotage my relationship with Crystal!? Did you throw her clothes on the floor? Did you wear the invisibility blanket and knock soup on her? It wasn’t an invisible wizard after all, was it!?”

Mabel hadn’t prepared for these accusations and her defensive argument faltered. “No!” she shouted. “Dipper, no. I swear. The invisible wizard wasn’t me or Pacifica. We did talk about you and her at the mansion, but I didn’t want to try to do anything while you were still with Crystal and neither did she. She’s not like that anymore.” She sat back down on her bed and went into ‘sweater town’. “I pushed too hard, and everything is terrible now. I wanted it too much; as much for myself, so I could be the expert matchmaker, as for you or Paz. It’s my fault and I’m sorry.”

Dipper sat down next to her and put his arm around her. “Mabel, I just ended my very first relationship a few weeks ago. And I’m not doing okay with it. I’m still a mess inside. I need time to figure it all out and to figure out who I am. I probably should have talked to you about it more. I’m sorry. I don’t want to jump into another relationship before I’m ready. And you’re right. I do kind of have a thing for Pacifica, but it's still just too soon.”

Mabel’s head popped up out of sweater town like a groundhog and she wiped her nose on her collar. “I’m sorry, Dipper. I should have talked to you more too, instead of just assuming you were doing okay and trying to rig everything to happen.” She sighed. “But the kiss? The kiss was good, right?”

He flopped on his back. “Mabel, the kiss was unbelievable. It was out of this world. I should probably seek medical attention or something.”

Mabel giggled. “I probably shouldn’t tell you this, but she’s never kissed anyone before.”

Dipper raised his eyebrows. “Really? She was very brave then.” He looked at her and added, “And you are a bad friend for putting her up to it.”

She smiled faintly. “Yeah, I’ll make it up to her somehow.”

“You’re going to tell her everything I just said, aren’t you?” Dipper sighed and rubbed his face.

“You know me too well, brother.” Mabel smiled smugly and pushed her arms back into her sleeves.

“Ugh. Fine. It’s not like I can stop you. Just...tell her I will text her, but I can’t yet. I’m exhausted and I still have some things to figure out.”

“Okay. Awkward sibling hug?”

“Awkward sibling hug. Get over here.” Dipper sat up and held out his arms.

They embraced and said in unison, “Pat-pat.”

Be sure to read the next adventure: 

General Confusion


End file.
